


Silent Comfort

by Tarlan



Series: Silent World [18]
Category: The Magnificent Seven (TV)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Angst, Drama, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-08-19
Updated: 2003-08-19
Packaged: 2017-10-20 13:38:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/213342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tarlan/pseuds/Tarlan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Achilles</p>
            </blockquote>





	Silent Comfort

Chris stepped out of the saloon and paused, eyes narrowing as Gardner caught sight of him and immediately set off towards him. Jeff Gardner was one of the many homesteaders who had packed up his family and come West in search of a dream. He'd settled only an hour's ride from the town and had traveled in today, as he did several times a month, to sell the fruit and vegetables he'd grown on his land. Chris could not hear the words Gardner threw back at his wife but her gaze flitted between him and her husband for a moment before she turned to serve another customer so Chris waited patiently for the man to reach him.

"Good day, Mr. Larabee. I need to talk to you about some problems we've been having."

"Stewart James?"

"Yeah. His men have been tearing down my fences and letting his cattle range over my land. Fast as I put up them fences, they tear them down again."

Chris sighed softly, almost imperceptibly. He'd received similar reports from other homesteaders but there was little he could do even though he wanted to avoid a range war like the one out near Mason County some years back.

"We're only seven men, Mr. Gardner. We can't be every place... but I'll see what I can--"

Chris broke off and turned as he heard JD yelling, "Hold it". Within a split second of the first gunshot, he had started moving, drawing his gun smoothly as he raced towards the bank. He cursed inwardly as he saw JD moving sideways and fanning his gun as he tried to stop the two men racing from the bank. The first man, a dark-skinned cowboy, had already fallen to one of JD's bullets but the other had reached his horse. Chris watched dispassionately as JD crashed into a barrel, barely registering the sound of breaking glass as JD's final bullet went astray.

The second bank robber had almost managed to mount his skittish horse so Chris fired, aiming at the thickest part of the man's leg to avoid hurting the horse. It struck the man almost in the ass at the topside of his thigh. The damaged leg buckled beneath him and he fell heavily to the ground.

Chris leaped over the barrel, "Drop it!" he cried, his leg shooting out to kick away the gun that the robber was bringing to bear on him, "Get down!" He straddled the wounded, defenseless man shouting, "Don't move!"

Once Chris felt certain the man was not going to try anything, he looked towards the youngest member of the Seven. During the heat of the fight he had managed to push aside his fears but now he needed to know if JD had been hit.

"JD, you all right?"

Chris breathed a sigh of relief when he heard JD answer; realizing the kid was no more than winded. Still, he planned to have words with him later over the stupid stunt he'd pulled with his gun but his thoughts were frozen in place as the bank door opened.

"Help! We need some help here! Annie's been shot. Help!"

Chris could only look on in concern at the blood blossoming across Annie's bodice. He could hear running footsteps on the boardwalk but his attention was drawn back to the man beneath him.

"He shot me right in the butt! What kind of man goes around shooting people like that?"

"You were robbing the bank." Chris gave him a hard shake and looked back, giving a small sigh of relief when Nathan dropped down beside Annie. Glancing up, Chris caught Vin's eyes for a split second, long enough to affirm that he was fine to his lover, and seeing the quiet relief reflected back from the sky blue eyes.

"Let's get her over to my place." Nathan looked to Vin and Josiah.

Vin moved in and took her upper half while Josiah lifted her legs and, with Nathan's stabilizing hand, they raced away. Chris stood up and stepped back, his eyes scanning the devastation surrounding him. The barrel still lay overturned in the street, one man lay dead on the boardwalk, and another lay injured on the dusty street. The bank's manager stood by his door, ashen faced and shaking, with his hands and clothing splattered in Annie's blood... and JD sat on the edge of the boardwalk some ten feet away, his young face white with shock.

This was not how he had envisioned his day beginning and Chris could only be grateful that Mary had ridden out in her buggy earlier to pay a visit on a nearby homestead for an hour or two. He had enough on his mind right now, without having to fend off Mary and her insatiable need for news.

Vin returned almost immediately but a single glance told Chris that there wasn't any good news on Annie. Although he'd gained no clear view of her injury, he hoped it had been high on the shoulder otherwise they would be little Nathan could do to save her. Vin's blue eyes narrowed, and a slight frown said more than mere words as they retreated into their silent world to ask and receive assurances. Chris nodded, reaffirming that he'd not been injured in any way and then, ignoring the pitiful whining of their live bank robber, they turned to ask questions of the Bank Manager.

"They came in pretending to be prospectors selling gold dust. Then that one," he pointed a finger at their prisoner, "Pulled a gun."

Chris didn't need to ask what had happened with Annie. He'd seen JD's gun fire as he fell; heard a bullet smash through glass. His eyes raised to the ragged hole through the bank window.

"Why don't you go get cleaned up and we'll figure out the rest." Vin handed back the money stolen from the bank with a grim but reassuring smile, then he hunkered down beside the body of the dead robber.

"I've seen this one before." He pulled on his chin, eyeing the man's features carefully.

"Our town?"

"On a wanted poster down in Julestown."

Vin had been in Julestown only a few weeks back, escorting a prisoner there with Chris. While Chris distracted the sheriff, he had checked through the wanted posters. He'd been searching for his own poster, hoping that he wouldn't find one in the pile though, fortunately, the one he did discover bore no strong resemblance to him. Vin had quickly pocketed the poster and they burned it on their way back 'home'. With luck, the Sheriff at Julestown might not get a fresh copy sent to him for years, if ever, for the states only tended to send them if they had new information or a rise in the reward to impart.

Chris looked deeply at his lover, waiting patiently. Vin had a good memory for names and faces, which is why he'd been pretty successful as a bounty hunter before meeting up with Eli Joe. However, it looked like today might be an exception for Vin had the irritating whining of the wounded robber to break his concentration.

They both tried to ignore the continuing complaints of the injured man as Chris decided on the best course of action.

"Best send 'em a wire, let 'em know we got him."

"This is inhumane! Downright in--"

The man broke off abruptly and Chris looked to where their prisoner was staring along the main street. He sensed rather than saw Vin rise quickly, stepping around the body and taking up a better position to defend them both.

"Achilles... it was Hector's idea to rob the bank. I just went along to keep him company, is all."

Chris eyed the dark-skinned cowboy sitting tall in his saddle, sensing the air of leadership that surrounded him.

"You know these men?" he asked, not liking the looks of the mixed band of whites, blacks, Mexicans and Indians though he knew his ill-ease had nothing to do with the color of their skin or the race they were born into. There was something hard about these men that spoke of trouble.

"That man is my twin brother. He know better..." Achilles glared at the injured man, "Than to do something like this." He dismounted and walked over to his brother lying dead on the boardwalk, crouching down beside him. "You were a hero at Harper's Ferry. John Brown himself said so. Look how far you have fallen."

With reverence, he covered his brother's face with a blanket.

"Achilles. The kid behind you... he's the one that shot Hector. Shot some woman, too."

Achilles turned to glare at JD and Chris felt a small measure of pride as JD stood his ground.

"I didn't mean to shoot her."

Achilles looked back at Chris. "I'll see to it he gets a Christian burial."

He moved to pick up the body but Vin forestalled him. Vin's dirt and gravel voice held just the veil of a threat without seeming at all antagonistic, allowing Achilles the option of standing aside and waiting for a day or two.

"Can't let you take him till we hear from the sheriff in Julestown. They might want to see his body."

"My brother ain't going to Julestown."

Chris recognized the glint in Achilles' eyes and knew Achilles' intention before he had moved partway to the two guns in holsters strapped bandito style across his chest. He pulled his own gun at a speed that left Achilles jerking in surprise.

"Don't wanna do that, Mister."

Achilles' dark eyes flickered towards Vin and Chris knew his lover had him covered too. The ratcheting sound of a bullet being levered into the chamber of a rifle had Achilles' gang looking round to find Buck standing close by with a rifle poised on his shoulder and aimed at them. His intention was clear; he'd shoot dead the first man who raised a gun.

Achilles acknowledged the guns surrounding him and his men with a slight nod of respect, and then he turned and walked away, pausing beside JD.

"You... show him the proper respect."

"Achilles. Achilles!" The wounded man started to rise as Achilles got back onto his horse and turned away but Chris shoved him back to the ground.

"Get down."

"You ain't gonna leave me here, Achilles, are you? W--wait! Achilles!"

But Achilles rode slowly away, not bothering to glance back at the former gang member who called to him in desperation. Chris waited until the gang had turned the far corner before reaching down to the wounded man.

"Looks like you get free bed and board at the jail... until the Judge sentences you to hang."

He dragged the man up and, between him and Vin, they half carried, half dragged the man toward the jail house.

****

Once inside, Vin gave the man a last shove before slamming the cell door shut behind him. He made a great show of locking the door and hanging the key up just out of reach and then wandered over to where Chris was pulling out the latest batch of wanted posters. Vin gave a wry grin as Chris pulled out the seat and slumped into it, arms crossed, after placing the pile of posters on the desk. He sat down on the desk next to the pile, his smile softening as he stared at his lover's profile, seeing the occasional flicker of pale lashes as Chris studied the scene beyond the jail house window. The rigid set of Chris's lean frame told him his lover was not in the best of moods and more than a little concerned that Achilles would not take 'no' for an answer. Vin agreed. Achilles would be back once he had the element of surprise on his side, which meant either an immediate regroup and attack, or waiting until the dead of night.

He had a strong feeling Achilles would wait until after nightfall. He sighed inwardly, understanding Chris's annoyance at the prospect of losing both a night's sleep *and* having to break the secret tryst they'd made for the coming evening.

However, there was something very appealing about Chris in a dark mood. The almost petulant pursing of his lips left Vin licking his own in temptation, wishing they had the jail house to themselves so he could give into the desire to caress the strong jaw and kiss away his annoyance. He couldn't see Chris's eyes but he knew they would be darkened in anger, surrounded by a glinting corona of soft fern green. His fingers itched to reach out and relax the anger-stiffened muscles.

He wriggled slightly, pants becoming a little too tight for comfort as he thought of another rigid part of his lover that he'd like to massage into softness. Instead he reached over and snagged a handful of posters from the top of the pile, slowly discarding each as he made his way through them.

When he looked up he found knowing eyes almost smirking at him and he made a promise to make Chris pay for his unconscious and silent teasing. The moment was broken by more complaints from the man who had eventually identified himself as Morris.

"My rear is killing me! When do I get to see the doctor, huh? I'll bleed all over your jail, I swear I will! You might get rid of the stain, but you'll never get the smell out." Chris remained as still as a statue except for the flicker of his eyes towards the back of the jail. "Blood stinks. You don't believe me, do you?"

"I believe you. Now, shut up."

Chris's tone showed that he really didn't care less, and that the man's insistent whining was beginning to fray his temper, especially when it interrupted their silent communication. Vin laughed softly, earning a small glare from his lover. In truth, Morris needed to have the bullet taken out of his leg but he wasn't going to die if he had to wait a few more hours. However, even if he was seriously wounded, Vin wasn't about to pull Nathan away from helping Annie just to sew up this miserable excuse for a man.

JD arrived and slumped into the second seat, becoming the third corner of a triangle with wanted posters scattered through the center. His greeting held none of his usual boyish enthusiasm and Vin looked up at him in concern, then glanced sideways to find a reflection of that concern in his lover's eyes too.

"How you doing, Kid?"

"Be better when I know Annie's gonna live."

Vin grimaced, understanding a little of what JD was going through. During his youth, when he'd held his first gun, he'd made a stupid mistake and hurt some innocent bystander. Fortunately, he'd only grazed them but it had been an important lesson that set him on the path to ensuring he spent more effort in the placement rather than the speed of his shots. Natural ability through having a keen eye meant that he gained a reputation more as a sharpshooter than a gunfighter, but it was a reputation he could live with in pride. There were few men, like Chris Larabee, who had both speed and accuracy.

Although not quite as fast, Buck Wilmington was one such man, and so was Ezra Standish. In time, Vin knew JD would be an equal to Chris but only once he had grown beyond youthful impetuosity and listened a little harder to some of the important lessons Buck tried to instill into him.

He chuckled softly. Of course, first JD would have to sort out what was important and what was pure bull where Buck was concerned. The next poster caught Vin's eye and he glanced at it for a moment before handing it over to JD.

"Hector Thompson. Wanted for robbery in three States," JD read aloud, attracting Chris's attention. Chris took the sheet from JD and stared at the rough drawing that confirmed their dead robber's identity.

But one thing bothered Vin, and he spoke it aloud. "Why send two men to rob a bank when you have eight?"

Chris looked up at Vin and then across at Morris. "Maybe Achilles has got bigger fish to fry."

"Don't look at me. I don't even like fish."

Vin almost laughed aloud at the look of disgust that crossed Chris's face.

"So are these guys famous or something?" JD asked.

"Thompson brothers rode with John Brown in Kansas during the war."

It seemed that Chris, along with many other people, believed that the war started with John Brown in Kansas rather than many months later. For once Vin couldn't make out from Chris's tone whether he considered that a good or a bad thing. He knew Chris had no pro-slavery tendencies; neither did he but...

"They were heroes," piped up Morris from the cells.

"I wouldn't call men on a murdering rampage heroes," Vin responded as he recalled the stories told about John Brown and his mixed band of whites and blacks, and how they had dragged five men out of their beds in the middle of the night and murdered them.

"They were slaves in Missoura, just youngsters when they fled. They learned to fight, went back, put an end to slavery."

Although Vin could sympathize with the abolitionists he'd always believed that there were ways and means of achieving an end to slavery that didn't encompass the murder of innocents. However, John Brown had been a fanatic to the cause and even after his execution, his followers carried on blindly in his bloody footsteps having, unfortunately, lost sight of the true goal. John Brown had wanted equality for all -- but followers like the Thompson brothers replaced that with a simple need to kill anyone who opposed the abolition of slavery, right down to murdering even the wives and children of slave owners.

"They killed men, women, and children."

"You all are gonna be guilty of the same thing if you don't get me some food and some blankets."

"I need some fresh air."

Chris stalked towards the door. Whether he was keen to get away from the musty jail house and their whining prisoner, or whether he just wanted to get away from discussions on the war was impossible for Vin to tell. Whichever, Vin could see the benefit of making his escape too. He followed after Chris, leaving JD sitting amidst the wanted posters they had scattered about during their search for Hector Thompson's.

Vin noticed that Chris still held the poster and realized that he intended to send the telegram to Julestown now they had confirmed Hector Thompson's identity. It made sense as the sooner they could get rid of the body, the better.

As he walked along the boardwalk, having decided to go check on how Annie was doing, Vin saw Mary Travis up ahead struggling with a poster of her own. Silently, he wondered when she had got back and if she had heard about the attempted bank robbery and shooting.

"Here. Let me give you a hand."

"Oh, thanks."

Vin held the poster in place. "Watch your fingers now," he said as she held the small nail in place and began to tap it in with the hammer.

As he leaned in close he could smell the scent of lavender water rising from her creamy skin. Her hair held the freshness of a day spent in the open air though another scent was slowly overpowering it from her work inside the Clarion office. He could smell the still wet ink on the poster, could scent the mustiness of paper dust on her clothing from where she had tended the press.

Once she'd finished hammering in the nail Vin stepped back, appraising her handiwork with momentary curiosity.

"Think anyone will enter?"

Vin stared harder at the poster, seeing a jumble of fancy lines and shapes that experience had told him were words. Some of them had become familiar from the numerous times he had scanned a wanted poster in his bounty hunting days, but he could not make much sense of the other strange symbols on the poster in front of him.

"I don't rightly know." Then her words gave him a clue as he recalled overhearing her talking with Chris the night before about running a poetry competition in the newspaper. He took a gamble that she had decided to follow through with that intention. "Poetry's, uh... pretty fancy for this town."

"Poetry's not just fancy words. Some of the best poetry is plain speaking." Vin sighed silently in relief that the gamble had paid off but then she surprised him with a new question. "Why don't you enter?"

"What makes you think I can write a poem?"

"I don't know. I just figured you've traveled so much... might have a lot to say."

"I reckon I might."

"Give it a try."

Vin squirmed inside as Mary gave him a sultry expression that any other man might have mistaken for interest in him rather than any words he might put to paper. But Vin knew better than most. He knew that the _Clarion_ meant everything to Mary, and her next words confirmed his belief.

"I'll put it in my paper."

"I'll... I'll study on it a bit." Vin touched the brim of his hat. "Mary," he said with respect as he quickly made his escape.

However, as he walked along the boardwalk, his thoughts returned to her belief that he could write poetry, and then he recalled moments lying in Chris's arms where he had spoken softly, describing some of the sights he had seen in his short but well-traveled life.

_You've got a poet's heart, Vin._

Vin smiled in remembrance of the soft whisper from above as Chris wrapped his arms around him, holding him tightly against his lover's gently perspiring chest. He'd fallen silent, listening to the steady beat of the strong heart beneath him, enjoying the silent comfort of those arms and tightening his own around the lean yet perfectly sculptured frame. The scent of their lovemaking had filled the air around them, pungent and strong, mingling with the fresh sweat evaporating from their well-sated bodies.

Those were the times Vin loved best, secure in Chris's embrace in the quiet hours just before dawn, listening to his lover's sleepy sighs of pleasure and the beat of his heart. Then, with great reluctance, he would slip from Chris's bed, dress quickly and sneak away before the town began to stir. Often he would saddle his horse and ride out to the edge of the mesa, finding his favorite spot with ease despite the darkness. And there he would stare across the plain as the sun slowly rose, watching the rays of light stretch out over the solitary land like golden fingers searching for a strong hold on the new day.

He took the stairs two at a time and gently pushed open the door to Nathan's clinic. Inside, he could see Annie's husband, Hiram, holding his young wife's hand, his pale blue eyes filled with fear. Nathan's face looked strained as he continued to pack clean bandages against the wound, the squashed lead of a bloodied bullet lying in a dish close by. Josiah was murmuring softly as Annie's weakening sobs filled the tiny room.

Vin knew from the tenseness of Nathan's shoulders that this was a fight he was losing, and Vin closed his eyes and then the door, softly, knowing he had no place in that room. He leaned onto the balcony and stared along the main street, seeing JD seated on the bench outside the jail. The townsfolk were staring at the kid as they passed and Vin knew the situation would soon be far worse for JD.

Words and images merged in his mind of hearts and heroes, of sitting alone watching the sun rise above the plain. Then he thought of JD and the shadow of Annie's mortal wounding hanging over him as his dreams of heroism lay shattered around him. He saw a reflection of himself in the kid's eyes as he thought of the hangman's noose hanging over his head, with his own good name in tatters.

The image was so strong that he wanted to write it down straight away and, once more, he felt the frustration of illiteracy beating on him. He'd not been given the opportunity of schooling as a child as the Indian-hating teacher had refused to have him in her classroom, seeing only his 'tainted' blood. With no one else to teach him he thought he'd learned to live with his ignorance of book learning. For the most part, it hadn't truly mattered to him that he couldn't read or write. He'd figured out ways of getting people to tell him the important details off of posters or newspapers, learning to stay in the background and listen carefully.

However, in those days he'd been a loner, drifting from one place to the next after before forced to leave the Kiowa and Comanche. So his lack of reading skill hadn't really bothered him so much, but since coming here he'd become all too aware of his inadequacies. Even Nathan, a former slave, could read and write. Josiah and Ezra had been given formal education, and Chris, Buck and JD had been given schooling as children in their home towns.

He recalled the many times when he would see Chris reading, always a little envious when he saw his lover had been swept away to distant lands leaving him far behind. He smiled gently. Sometimes Chris would take him on that journey, reading aloud in his soft, lullaby voice of fair maidens and black knights, of dirty deeds and acts of bravery.

Vin felt momentary guilt. He had shared so many secrets with Chris -- about his past, about the price on his head -- but, somehow, revealing his inability to read or write seemed a far worse testament to his character. So often, people learning of his illiteracy has turned on him with contempt as if he had suddenly confirmed to them that he *was* the ignorant, simple-minded heathen that they believed him to be. Although he knew in his heart that Chris wouldn't treat him that way, he didn't want Chris to think any less of him for his lack of schooling.

The idea of writing poetry for Mary appealed to him on more than one level. He saw it as a way of proving that book learning wasn't as important as the skills he had learned just through living. And he saw it as a way of showing there was more to him than his Indian blood and the rough clothing he wore. However, more importantly, he liked the idea of having one of his poems in Mary's paper where Chris would come across it unexpectedly. In his mind's eye he could see the surprise followed by pleasure in the green eyes.

Still, it was all just a pipe dream unless he could find a way of getting those words onto paper for Mary. He pondered on his options.

Chris was out of the question for then there would be no surprise for him to find. Nathan and Josiah were busy tending to the dying Annie, Buck was busy with town's business and JD was too caught up in the terrible events of the day. That left only Ezra. Vin recalled the letter he had once glimpsed at when they pretended Ezra's letter was the deeds to the land that Dickey O'Shea desired so greatly. He remembered the neatness of the scripting with its fancy loops. There was no doubt in Vin's mind that Ezra would be able to write down his poem. However, Vin was uncertain of the reception he would get from Ezra.

"Beggars can't be choosers," he said softly to himself as he made the decision to ask Ezra for the favor.

It was early evening when he spotted Ezra standing up by the bar in the saloon, and he hesitated for a moment when he heard Ezra mumbling away to himself. It was unusual to find Ezra drunk as the gambler preferred to keep his wits about him but Vin had heard a rumor that Ezra had met his match at cards.

"Talking to yourself, Ezra?"

"Ah... Mr. Tanner. A votre sante."

Vin didn't pretend to understand what Ezra had just said though he figured it was a toast to him by the way Ezra raised his glass. Ignoring the foreign words, he plowed on.

"Got kind of a favor to ask of you."

Ezra made some sort of noncommittal response but as he hadn't immediately said, "No," Vin took a deep breath and carried on.

"Mary's putting some poetry in the paper and--"

"That's nice."

"--I was wondering if... well, since you have such nice handwriting and all, would you mind, once you sober up--"

Ezra choked out a self-deriding laugh that told Vin he had no intentions of sobering up too soon.

"--writing down my poem for me all nice and pretty-like?"

"Y--you wrote... a poem?"

"Yeah." Vin felt a dreadful sinking in his chest at the look on Ezra's face, the alcohol having robbed Ezra of his normal poker mask. Disappointment and anger raced through him as Ezra began to laugh, the ridicule burning deep into Vin's heart and searing his hopes and dreams with it.

"I knew I was wasting my time with you." With a shake of his head, Vin turned and walked away, heart-sickened as more laughter followed his retreat, and Vin could only be grateful that the saloon had not been busy.

"No! No! Homer himself walks among us!"

As he stepped outside, JD came rushing past with tears spilling down his face and Vin turned his face to stare along the street towards Nathan's clinic, knowing in his heart that Annie was dead. He lowered his head, knowing there was nothing he could do to help ease JD's pain, nor his own.

****

"Thought you were planning on getting a little shut-eye."

Vin looked back as Chris eased out of the darkening shadows, and Chris could see grief and frustration etched across his tired face.

"Was..." Vin shrugged. "Could say the same for you."

"You all right?"

Vin looked along the main street towards Nathan's and then in the direction JD had fled, then he looked back into the quiet but gaily lit saloon. Chris understood the significance of the first two having been expecting to hear bad news for some hours. He sighed, thinking of the two little Nechaus children who would be going to bed tonight knowing they'd never see their mama again. However, he didn't know why Vin had looked back into the saloon.

A glance through the window showed a solitary figure propping up the bar and Chris could only wonder at what must have passed between Ezra and Vin to warrant the disappointed look in Vin's eyes. However, Chris valued his own privacy and the privacy of others, knowing Vin would tell him if it was something important that he needed to know about.

Chris changed the subject.

"Might as well help Nathan with Annie's body, then get him to see to Morris before I have to shoot him."

Vin gave a half-hearted laugh. "I'll come give you a hand."

"Shooting Morris? Reckon I can do that all by myself."

Chris saw that his words had the desired effect, chasing away the shadows from Vin's eyes for the time being, and he breathed a sigh of relief. Together they made their way along the main street; stopping only at Parker's to tell the undertaker he would be needed again that night.

An hour later he was sitting in the jail. It wasn't how he'd planned to spend this evening with Vin but at least they were together... and Morris had finally shut up and gone to sleep. Chris stood slowly, stretching his tired frame. He felt and heard muscle and bone crackling as he tried to ease the tension from his heavy limbs. With one swift movement he pulled off his hat, setting it down close by, and then he removed his jacket, lying across the back of his chair. In the other seat, Vin looked as if he might be asleep but Chris could make out the glint from slitted eyes, warmed by the thought that Vin was watching him. He was tempted to stretch again, for no reason other than to tease Vin, but something told him that tonight Vin wasn't in the mood for teasing.

Another hour passed in silence and Chris rose from his seat only to pour another mug of coffee. He glanced at Vin; a soft smile curving his lips when he realized Vin was dozing. The rifle was perched across Vin's strong thighs, his fingers curled around the stock and barrel. In the glow of the light from the street fires beyond, Vin looked impossibly young with long, sooty lashes dusting his cheeks and his firm, square jaw softened in sleep. His cheeks, chin and throat were only slightly darkened with bristles, and Chris knew the slow beard growth was a part of Vin's Indian heritage. If he looked closely, he could see small characteristics that marked his mixed blood but even if Vin had been full Indian, Chris knew he would have fallen for this man.

The color of his skin, of his hair and his eyes had little meaning -- although Chris had to admit that it was these features that had first drawn his attention. However, if all of that changed... if his hair turned white, his pale bronze skin mottled and those beautiful azure blue eyes filled with the milky cataracts of old age, Chris knew he would still want Vin Tanner with every part of his heart and soul.

Chris sipped at his coffee as he turned away from Vin to stare back out through the window. A muffled crash caught his attention and he moved to the door, glancing along the main street. Vin woke from his light doze at Chris's soft call.

"Vin... They're back."

Keeping low, they sneaked out of the jail and along the boardwalk to where they had strategically placed a small barricade of barrels and crates earlier that evening. They stopped behind it. In the middle of the street some twenty feet away, Chris could make out the shape of an overturned wagon and, behind it, the dark shapes of men.

Suddenly, Parker ran out from his undertaker's store, only partially dressed.

"Help! Help! They're taking the body! They're taking the body!"

Shots rang out and Chris saw Parker fall, his body flying forward from the impact of a bullet in the back. Behind him on the boardwalk by the undertaker's, Chris could make out the dark-skinned leader of the gang. He ducked back as more bullets thudded into the wood of the barrels, yelling at Buck to take cover as his oldest friend came running at the first sounds of gunfire.

With growing fear, he realized that he and Vin were in a dangerous predicament as Achilles Thompson fired shot after shot towards their barely protected sides. Chris ducked as low as he could, pressed up against Vin and infinitely grateful that he was the one on the outer edge, knowing that any bullets would have to go through him to reach Vin.

However, Vin was not so content to stay put and even before Achilles stopped firing to race away, he was moving from the dubious safety of the crates. Chris followed but Achilles' men had loaded the pine box onto the back of a wagon and all were retreating fast. Chris then became aware of Nathan and Josiah adding their firepower but Achilles' men were already out of range.

"Let's go after them!"

"Buck!" Chris yelled and attracted Buck's attention. There was something about the way these men operated that stirred old memories from the war, warning him that they might have put plans in place to ensure they were not followed and Chris had no doubt that any traps would be lethal. "I don't like it. Not at night."

He'd not known Buck during the war but his urgency and suspicion must have registered for Buck stopped in his tracks. Chris watched as Nathan knelt down beside Parker, already suspecting the worst.

"He's dead."

Chris sighed as the incident, which had started yesterday when two strangers rode into town, rolled on mercilessly, adding to it the life of yet another of the townsfolk while Chris felt powerless to stop it. A glance showed how heavily this rested on the shoulders of the others. Nathan and Josiah had fought so hard to save Annie and failed; JD was wracked with guilt for yet another death, and Buck looked like he was losing the battle to hold everything together.

If Achilles hadn't murdered Parker right in front of his eyes then Chris might have been tempted to just let them ride off with Hector Thompson's body, and be damned, but Travis had placed his faith in the Seven of them to uphold justice for the people round these parts. People like Bill Parker.

With heavy footsteps and a heavier heart, Chris turned to Vin, reaching out to grasp his arm as he past.

"Vin, ride out in the morning and find out which direction they're headed."

He didn't wait for an affirmative, knowing Vin would be more than eager to find the men who'd wrought such destruction on their home. He started to move away, intent on going to the saloon for a drink when Parker's assistant called to him.

"Mr. Larabee!"

Chris turned, sighing heavily then feeling compassion when the younger man spotted the dead body of his former employer.

"Jed?"

Jed dragged his eyes away from Parker, focusing on Chris.

"They took Annie's body."

Chris closed his eyes, almost reeling from the shock while a silent scream echoed through his head as things went from bad to worse. However, there was nothing anyone could do until sunrise, and then he had to hope that Vin was a match for the cunning men that had attacked this night. He knew it would be far better if Vin found them before they came back here for Hector Thompson's body.

Though, right now, Chris would settle for Vin finding Annie's body alone as he didn't want to face the wrath of a whole town should they not be able to offer her a decent burial.

With only a few hours left until dawn, Chris took to his bed at the boarding house, stripping off his gun belt and laying it close at hand. He fell into sleep instantly, one filled with terrible dreams of finding Annie's desecrated body lying broken and discarded just a little ways outside the town.

He awoke with a start, reaching for his gun but felt his hand stayed by another.

"Easy, Cowboy."

"Vin?"

Smooth, warm flesh moved under the blanket next to him, sliding against his own as gentle hands soothed down his flanks. He felt the tickle of Vin's long hair against his shoulder, against his chest as Vin ducked his head to suck on an exposed nipple. Chris sighed, welcoming his lover's caress.

"Vin," he sighed, softly, arching up into the demanding mouth, groaning at the pleasure and pain as Vin bit down gently on the tightened nub, grazing it with his sharp, white teeth.

"Fuck me. Do it now."

He rarely made such coarse demands of his lover but Chris needed the jolt of agony and ecstasy, needed to be taken hard and rough. He cried out as Vin complied, stabbing inside his ill-prepared body in a way that must have brought as much pain as pleasure to Vin as well. The hard bulk of Vin's erection stretched him uncomfortably, burning him with its intensity and yet it felt so good. He whimpered softly in pain but bore down hard as Vin tried to move away, holding Vin tight inside as if he would never let him go.

He needed the pain as much as he needed the pleasure, needed to erase the darkness and despair of this day. Sharp hipbones slammed into his buttocks, each thrust bruising in its brutality, bringing renewed pain mingled with pleasure, and he bit down hard, fingers digging into the sheets beneath him on hearing a whimper of equal passion. The ecstasy came too fast, rolling over him with unsatisfactory dryness and leaving him feeling cheated but still he clung tightly to Vin as his innards were bathed with the sweet relief of Vin's climax, soothing his abused flesh with its warmth and slickness.

Vin's strong arms encircled him, his teeth sinking into the flesh of his throat where none would see, adding an exquisite pain that overloaded his senses. He cried out in frustration, wanting to be taken again... harder, faster, violently. He wanted to hear the slap of Vin's body against his ass, wanting to feel the piercing bluntness ripping into him... wanted to feel incredibly alive but Vin was spent... and so was he.

Vin collapsed across his back, shaft still buried deep inside, his hot, sweaty body covering Chris like a warm blanket.

"Damn... Cowboy."

Chris wasn't sure if Vin was cursing or praising him and he cried out low, in loss, as the rapidly softening shaft slipped from his body.

"Ain't the answer, Chris. Just ain't the answer."

Chris buried his face into the pillows, knowing that neither of them had been satisfied by the fast and furious fuck. He felt Vin's weight shifting to the side and didn't resist as he was pulled onto his side with Vin curled tightly around his back. He could feel the warmth of Vin's breath upon his shoulder, and the heat of his flesh against his own. He could feel the arms banded around him and the strong legs trapping his but he didn't fight the restriction of his limbs, gaining everything he *thought* he would have in their rough sex within this simple but hard embrace.

"Never let me go, Vin."

The soft nuzzle of sharp teeth upon his exposed neck told him Vin had heard his soft words, and he felt his heavy eyelids falling closed, unable to resist the beckoning call of sleep.

Chris awoke just before dawn, with a sense of fullness as Vin thrust slowly inside his now lubricated opening. Fingers toyed gently with his nipples, squeezing and rubbing at the tightened nubs, sending delicious sensations racing to his groin. Chris pushed back smoothly against the increasingly hard bulk, drawing a moan of pleasure from Vin. A hand snaked downwards from one nipple, encircling his rigid flesh and working the hard length with exquisite slowness as one callused thumb smoothed across the sensitive tip.

They rocked together, allowing the sensations to build slowly, small keening wails following every firm, smooth thrust as Vin buried himself deeper inside. Sparkling lights flashed before Chris's closed eyes as the slow, tumultuous climax flowed over him, sending him flying with a silent scream of pleasure as renewed heat bathed his insides. He collapsed against the soft pillow, sighing in contentment as soft lips licked and caressed at his sweaty flesh.

Chris moaned in bereavement as Vin pulled away, grieving the loss of the hard bulk that had filled him and the warm arms that had held him.

"Got to go. Almost dawn."

Chris gazed towards the window, sensing rather than seeing the approaching dawn. He turned and drew Vin back into his arms, pressing his lips against the warm, swollen lips of his lover, possessing his sweet mouth in reaffirmation of his desire.

Vin pulled back, blue eyes smiling in contentment.

"Damn, Larabee. You sure make it hard for a man to up and leave you."

"Just wanna make sure you come back for more, Vin."

"Oh, I don't figure on that being a problem... even if we live to be old and gray."

Chris grinned and watched Vin as he slowly pulled on his clothes, hating to see all the hard planes and soft curves disappear beneath the coarse fabric of clothing. Eventually Vin was fully dressed but he leaned over the bed one last time, kissing Chris soundly, before he slipped away into the pre-dawn night.

More than an hour later Chris was dressed and walking through the town towards the saloon where he planned a solitary breakfast. However, his peace was shattered when a group of men that included Hiram Nechaus accosted him at the threshold.

"What would those animals want with my wife's body?"

"They thought it was someone else." Chris felt that he didn't have to explain who they believed was in the casket they had stolen.

"I got to get her back. She needs a proper burial."

"I understand, believe me."

He wondered if Hiram could read the seriousness in his expression though he knew, all too well, how blinded a grieving man could be, but he knew he couldn't blame Hiram for his anger. At least he had been granted the bodies of his wife and child to bury, no matter how charred they had looked at the time. Briefly, he wondered how much harder the grief would have been for him if Fowler had not left their bodies for him to find; if he had not been given the opportunity to give them the decent Christian burial that Hiram wanted for his own wife. He was about to turn away but Hiram pulled him back with his next words.

"What are you gonna do about JD?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Buck had appeared from the saloon and stood just among the men gathered around Chris. Hiram was one of the few people in town who was as tall, and maybe even taller, than Buck, and Chris could only watch as the two men squared off.

"He's reckless! And a public danger. I think most of us in this town would feel a lot safer if he wasn't walking around with them guns."

"You all feel that way?" Despite his softness of Buck's tone, Chris could see that Buck was angry as the crowd murmured their agreement with Hiram. "You forgetting all the things JD's done for you?"

"Oh, we ain't forgetting that. My God. He's a boy."

"He's not a boy," Buck replied heatedly and Chris, finally, had to step in, grabbing Hiram by the arm before the exchange became violent.

"All right! You made your point."

The men grumbled and moved away leaving Buck alone with Chris.

"You just gonna stand there? You gonna let him run JD out of town? That shooting was an accident. That could've happened to any one of us."

"But it didn't."

Chris knew his words would seem harsh, but he knew Buck was too caught up in his own need to protect JD to actually listen to him. Although Chris didn't wholly agree, Hiram did have a point. JD had acted recklessly, fanning his gun, and not taking note of where he was moving. Chris still felt the aftershocks rippling through him from those first few moments when he'd almost been convinced JD had fallen because he had been shot. He knew Buck had already remonstrated with JD over the gun and saw little point in taking JD to task over it as well, especially as it was already apparent that JD understood the magnitude of his recklessness. It wasn't to say, though, that JD wouldn't learn from his grave mistake and become a better man -- and fighter -- for it, but that was not what Hiram wanted to hear right now.

Hiram wanted someone to blame for his wife's death but rather than blame the circumstances, he had fixated on the owner of the killing bullet -- JD.

Chris could only sigh as Buck walked away in anger, hoping his friend would cool down so they could talk about it later without unnecessary argument. However, Buck disappeared for the remainder of the day, unwilling to be found, and leaving Chris feeling more frustrated than ever. In truth, if he hadn't been needed to keep tempers from boiling over in the town, Chris knew he would have ridden out with Vin at dawn.

As he walked back down the main street Chris hoped that Vin was having better luck that he.

****

Hot, dusty, tired and annoyed, Vin rode back along the main street, ignoring the stares of the townsfolk who had been expecting him to ride back in triumph with Annie's casket dragging along behind him -- or something to that effect. He snorted at the image in self-derision, the poem racing through his head since yesterday taking on greater meaning as he looked to his own hero's heart laying uncrowned by his inability to track down Achilles and his men.

He stopped at the livery, almost falling off his tired horse, and so grateful when Tiny offered to take care of his horse while he selected another. With Tiny's help he quickly moved the saddle across and led the fresh horse from the livery, intent of getting a few more supplies before setting out again. He walked the horse over towards Mrs. Potter's store, wanting to loosen his own stiffened limbs and aching back before he mounted up again.

People stared at him as he walked by, increasing his anger and frustration at not being able to appease their grief by bringing back some good news. He relented slightly at Mrs. Potter's friendly and compassionate words of encouragement, letting go some of his inner resentment and nodding his head in silent thanks as he bid her good day after making his purchases.

Vin heard a familiar footfall on the boardwalk behind him as he made his final preparations and spared a quick glance as Chris spoke quietly.

"Vin? Any luck?"

He hated having to admit his failure but he knew Chris, of all people, would accept his words without censure, knowing he had done as much as he could. Still, Vin felt annoyed enough that he couldn't face his lover.

"Some of them must've ridden with the cavalry 'cause they triple-crossed their tracks. Chased down two dead-ends. Had to come back for a fresh horse."

"Well, night comes fast this time of year. Why don't you wait till morning? I'll come with you."

Vin felt his mood lighten immediately, understanding the hidden meaning and was about to turn, playful comment almost on his lips when he spied Mary approaching. He gave an inner scream of frustration, able only to give Chris a perfunctory answer in the hope that his lover had seen Mary too.

Vin heard Chris moving off behind him to cross the street, barely acknowledging Mary, and wished he could spare more that the casual flicker of his eyes to follow the sweet movement of the lean body. He loved to see the ripple of ass muscle in the tight black pants while he imagined bury himself inside that ass once more.

Mary stopped beside him.

"Vin, I've been looking for JD I know he's feeling pretty down. When you see him, would you give him my best?"

"You bet." Vin hoped that would be it, wanting to retreat back into thoughts of Chris lying crushed beneath his weight as he plumbed the depths of his lover's body.

"Oh, and, uh... I'm holding the presses until I get that poem of yours."

"Well... uh... thank you, Mary," he glanced around, hoping no one was close enough to overhear, "But my scribing's so hard to read, it's likely to make your eyes sore trying to make sense of it."

"I'll write it down for you."

Vin looked across at Mary in surprise having never considered her when he needed to find someone to write down his poem. He realized, suddenly, that she would have been a far better choice than Ezra purely because she would see nothing untoward in his request.

"You'd do that for me?"

"Of course." She smiled warmly. Vin felt some of the tension from the day drain away with the possible realization of his small dream of seeing Chris's face alight with pleasure on reading his poem in the newspaper.

"Well, then, I... I reckon I'll think on it some more."

He led the horse back to the livery, his steps far lighter on this return journey, and then set off in search of Chris. He found his lover in the saloon, seated at their usual table, deep in thought, with a bottle of whiskey and two glasses set in front of him. Vin slid into the seat opposite and grinned as Chris filled the second shot glass and passed it across the table to him. He downed it in one swallow, welcoming the burn that tingled all the way to his toes, barely withholding a shudder as it hit his empty stomach.

Chris sighed. "Figure we need to move Thompson's body some place where we can watch over it."

"Morris's been complaining about the smell in the jail house. Why don't we give him something to really complain about."

Vin had the pleasure of seeing a broad grin break across Chris's face. "Best idea I've heard all day."

Just as Chris had said, night fell earlier this late in the year so they didn't have to wait too much longer before nightfall. They made swift work of moving the casket to the cell next to Morris, grinning conspiratorially at the man's increased whining before leaving Buck in charge of the jail house for a few hours. Then they returned to the saloon to find Josiah seated at their table, a fresh bottle of whiskey and several clean glasses making the invitation for company more than a little obvious. Chris sat down on one side while Vin sat on the other side of the big man. They accepted the whiskey Josiah poured from the bottle and gave a silent toast, clinking glasses together before downing the contents.

Vin looked across at the solemn ex-preacher, understanding how hard it had been for him today, trying to comfort the grieving Hiram as well as burying Mr. Parker and comfort Parker's grieving widow. Once they brought Annie's body 'home' then he would be called upon to preside over yet another funeral; a thought that would give Josiah no pleasure even as he performed the necessary duty.

Nathan joined them soon after but spent the evening in silence, too filled with his recent loss to uphold a conversation. The somber party continued on for more than an hour with each taking silent comfort from the men around them as they reflected on the last two terrible days.

Eventually, Vin broke the silence.

"You figure JD's up to taking a turn at the jail? He don't seem himself since..." Vin trailed off, not wanting to actually mention Annie by name.

"Boy needs time to--"

"I can take a watch."

Everyone looked up to find JD hovering in the shadows by the bar, unnoticed until now.

"You sure you're up to it?"

Vin could see that Chris hated to ask but he recalled how JD had not even drawn his gun while they were under fire yesterday when Achilles stole Annie's body by mistake. He knew from his own experience how hard it was to pick up a gun after hurting someone innocent, and wondered if Chris had come through a similar experience in his youth. JD seemed a little subdued by the question rather than filled with indignation as he had been in the past but Vin said nothing, not wanting to draw any more unnecessary attention to the kid.

Vin caught Chris's eyes after JD left the saloon, offering Chris his silent support. The sudden urge to take away the pain in Chris's eyes sent his booted foot reaching out to rub along Chris's inner thigh before pushing into his groin. Vin registered the barely concealed surprise at his blatant gesture and could see Chris desperately resisting the urge to check under the table to ensure himself that it *was* Vin rather than one of the others touching him so intimately.

Vin cast his eyes down as he drew back his foot, hiding the slow smirk behind the shot glass he raised to his lips. A glance across caught a confused expression in Josiah's slightly paler blue eyes and Vin sobered, realizing that he might be treading on dangerous ground. He had no idea how the ex-preacher would react to his so-called 'unnatural' relationship with Chris, and playing such intimate games with Chris in public would quickly get them noticed by the surprisingly observant man.

It was after midnight by the time everyone drifted away to their beds, and Vin waited until the last of the lights at the boarding house had been extinguished before he sneaked in. He knew it was a risk coming in two nights in a row but he could sense that Chris needed his touch as much as he needed Chris's.

It was dark in the room but once his eyes adjusted, Vin could make out the pearlescent glow of Chris's ivory flesh against the darkness of the night. He stripped off quickly and slipped into his lover's welcoming embrace, feeling Chris's arms tighten around him. Unlike the night before, there was no frantic need forcing a short and unsatisfying coupling. Instead they lay quietly in each other's arms soaking up the comfort offered by simple touch alone.

Vin dozed for a while, his head upon Chris's shoulder listening to the lullaby rhythm of the strong heartbeat. Eventually he noticed the first stirrings of arousal within himself and Chris, arching gently into the hands that stroked along his flesh from shoulder blade to the curve of his ass. The hand ceased its long caresses, fingers delving into the valley between his ass cheeks, sliding across the sensitive, hidden opening to his body.

Vin sighed in pleasure at the unexpected but greatly desired touch. He'd become used to being the taker over recent months, forcing aside his own desire to be possessed while Chris recovered from the stresses of the past months that had almost torn them apart. However, he felt the certainty in the finger that rimmed his hole, groaning as the grease-coated finger pushed inside, the short nail raking along the soft inner wall as Chris slowly loosened the tight muscle.

Vin pushed back onto the finger, gasping as it slid across that sweet spot deep inside, sending a tingling sensation radiating its warmth through his lower body, and slowly igniting the fires of passion in his blood.

Another finger entered him, working deep within his ass while Chris's other hand wrapped around his slowly engorging shaft. Vin found himself caught between the desire to thrust forward into the warm grasp or back against the impaling fingers, moaning in relief when he realized he could do both, then choking off a cry of anguish when the pleasurable pressure in his ass eased.

He lay on his back and waited, heart thumping in need, as Chris moved over him, his soft lips sucking and biting at Vin's exposed flesh, teasing on the sensitive nipple, toying with the nub with delicious torment before he urged Vin to turn onto his stomach. Chris moved slowly down between Vin's wide-spread thighs and Vin complied willingly with the silent command, drawing his legs under him and raising his ass. He wriggled wantonly as a warm hand gripped one hipbone firmly, waiting in eager anticipation as the other hand parted his ass cheeks, guiding the blunt head of his lover's shaft against the small opening. He gasped as Chris pushed forward, burying an inch or more of the thick shaft inside his well-prepared body.

Vin relaxed, eyes shuttered as Chris held still behind him, softly groaning when he felt both of Chris's warm hands gripping his hips tightly. He trembled in anticipation of the deep thrust that would make him belong to Chris once more, glorying in the possession when it came, pushing back hard until he could feel the crisp blond curls at Chris's groin against his ass. Chris pulled away and then plunged back in to the hilt, driven harder by Vin's counter thrusts, with guttural moans falling from his lips as he buried himself deep inside Vin's body.

They set up a slow rhythm, rocking back and forth in perfect harmony; taker and taker, possessor and possessed, allowing the sensations to grow slowly into a bone-melting warmth that stole their breath away as they flowed over the edge of desire into a soft but deeply satisfying climax.

When Vin regained his senses he found he was being smothered by the surprising weight of his lover's lean body. He moved weakly, stirring Chris into shifting his weight to the side, and then Vin became aware of the stickiness on the sheet beneath him from his spent seed. He knew the rapidly cooling seed would become uncomfortable soon enough but, for now, he wriggled luxuriously, enjoying the wet and slippery sensation against his belly in the knowledge that Chris had brought him to earth-shattering completion without even touching his sensitive shaft.

They lay together in silence until the pleasure of lying in the cold, wet patch diminished. Vin heard a soft chuckle as Chris pulled away, whispering softly.

"Got clean sheets in the drawer."

They stripped and remade the bed quickly, cleaned themselves with water from the bowl standing on top of the dresser, and then clambered back into each other's arms within the freshly made bed. Vin fell asleep instantly, subconsciously aware of Chris following him moments later.

****

With dawn drawing near, Chris awoke as he felt Vin slide from his bed once more. He watched through slitted, tired eyes as his lover dressed quietly, his attention drawn to the world outside for a moment as he heard the rumble of a wagon passing below. Momentarily he wondered who would be up and moving before sunrise -- other than his secret lover. He lost that thought as he was soundly kissed, feeling the slight burn of bristles against his own bewhiskered cheek before Vin opened the door a fraction and then slipped out, closing the door firmly behind him.

Less than half an hour later, Chris was finishing breakfast downstairs. As he popped the last piece of bacon in his mouth, he sat back, grinning knowingly at the man who shared his breakfast table. Vin mopped up the last of his runny egg with some corn bread and reached for his coffee, squirming slightly in his seat, his easy grin letting Chris know how good he felt this morning.

Mrs. Jenkins came across with a covered plate and placed it before them and Chris thanked her. He rose from the table, leaving Vin to bring the plate as he headed towards the jail house to check on -- and feed -- their prisoner. On entering the jail, Chris ignored Morris and his whining and went over to the desk, searching for the wanted poster for Hector Thompson that he had placed there the night before. He barely registered Vin's words as he took the breakfast Mrs. Jenkins had prepared over to Morris but Vin's next words brought him over fast.

"Chris! Body's gone."

"The food you serve is so ghastly I went ahead and ate him."

"What happened to him?" Vin demanded but the weasel of a man tried to start bargaining in return for information.

"It's gonna cost you one steak and some potatoes."

"Here. Why don't you start with this?" Chris grabbed the plate of food from Vin and threw it through the bars at Morris, too angry to care that he'd just messed up the cell. Then he had the pleasure of seeing Morris's eyes widen in fear as he looked down the wrong end of Vin's mare's leg at close range.

"Or how about I cook you up some hot lead?" Vin grated out menacingly.

Morris spilled the truth immediately, recovering quickly when Vin lowered the mare's leg and raced for the street. Chris followed him, ignoring the renewed bravado of Morris as he called out behind them.

"Get the others," Chris yelled as he ran in the opposite direction towards the livery where, hopefully, Tiny would be there to help him start saddling all the horses. Chris rushed inside giving a silent sigh of relief as Tiny anticipated his request.

"All of them?"

"All except JD's."

He was buckling Vin's saddle, tightening the cinch, when the others came running in to take over the task from him and Tiny and, moments later, they were riding out of town, following the tracks that led from outside the jail house. With a curse, Chris recalled the sound of a wagon outside his boarding room window just a little over half an hour earlier, before dawn, and realized that had to have been JD. He wondered what could have possessed JD to do something so foolhardy and hoped the kid wasn't riding into more trouble than he could handle.

Vin scouted just a little ahead and he drew them to a halt about twenty minutes later. The one advantage they had was that they could move faster on horseback than JD would drive the horses drawing the wagon holding Hector Thompson's casket. Even so, with a good forty-minute head start they knew they would be hard pressed to catch up with him before Achilles found him.

When Vin stopped abruptly, Chris and the others stopped too, dropping from their horses at Vin's signal and climbing the small, tree-lined rise. Just a little way ahead Chris could see JD drinking coffee with Achilles Thompson. Keeping low and quiet and using the scraggly trees and shrubs for cover, Chris followed Vin, knowing the others were behind him. They were, maybe, twenty feet away when Achilles stood up facing JD, then drew a gun and aimed it right at JD's face, his intention clear.

Vin's mare's leg sounded from just to one side of Chris and Chris saw Achilles flinch, dropping his gun arm and grabbing it with the other hand.

"This doesn't need to go any further!" He yelled from the relative safety of the trees, but he knew Achilles would see no sense in surrendering as all that awaited him in the town was the Judge and a hangman's noose for the murder of Parker.

"Take 'em, boys!"

Achilles yelled at his men and Chris wasted no more time, firing into Achilles' gang, picking his targets as he rushed forward. He heard a curse as splinters of bark were torn off the tree close to him, knowing Vin was none too crazy about him being out in the open even though Achilles and his men were retreating. However, Chris saw no alternative. They needed to drive Achilles back... away from JD and away from the caskets of both Annie and Hector Thompson.

Still, knowing he would bear the brunt of Vin's silent anger later added additional heat to his own wrath, and once they had driven Achilles and men away, Chris turned on JD.

"JD, what's the matter with you, coming out here by yourself. You could have got..."

His words trailed off as he stared down at the kid, realizing that JD was too caught up in shock and fear to even hear, let alone understand, those words. He glanced around and saw the others staring in concern at JD too. Although they hid it well, Chris could see the shock in both Vin and Buck's eyes. He turned away, leaving JD with Buck and Nathan, and indicated to Vin and Ezra to make sure Achilles and his men had kept on riding. Last thing they wanted was to have Achilles swoop down on them while they stood around insensible.

Chris took on the worst job with Josiah, opening up the caskets to ensure they had both bodies. He looked down upon Annie's pretty face, grayed in death, and sighed at the wasted life, then closed up the casket.

"Josiah?"

Josiah nodded and, together, they lifted the heavy caskets onto the back of JD's wagon. Buck helped JD up onto the bench and then sat next to him, taking the reins; his own horse brought along by one of the others. Slowly they made their way back to town.

Chris glanced across as Vin came up to ride beside him, seeing by the set of his jaw that he had not forgotten about Chris breaking cover. He waited patiently; knowing Vin would speak in his own time.

"Didn't have to go charging in like that."

"Yeah we did, Vin. He wasn't about to leave peaceably... or let us take him alive."

"Could have picked 'em off with rifles--"

"And let Achilles finish off JD while we were too far off to do him some good?"

"I winged him. Would've taken him with the next shot."

Chris had to concede that Vin was probably right on that score, but they'd moved into position without the rifles, and JD could've been dead by the time they retrieved them from the horses. Vin must have had a similar thought for he sighed deeply.

"Reckon there hadn't been enough time to go back for them rifles."

"Yeah."

"Don't mean I have to like it."

"I know."

They rode along in silence for the rest of the journey back but it was a companionable silence, their few words having cleared the air between them. Chris followed the wagon to the undertakers, leaving Hector Thompson's body there while Josiah officiated over the burial of Annie Nechaus.

Chris watched the solemn procession as it passed in front of the saloon, raising his glass just a fraction in respect before downing the contents. Vin and Buck did likewise, giving their own silent salute. They could see JD, hat in hand, watching the procession from the boardwalk.

"Don't know what to say to the kid. Feel like he's slipping away."

Buck rubbed a tired hand over his eyes and Chris wished he had an answer he could give. Truth was, JD needed to figure out his own way, even if that meant taking a different path to the one he currently rode. A quick look across at Vin saw similar resignation on his lover's face. Vin picked up his second shot of whiskey, eyeing it curiously, as if mesmerized by the light refracting through the glass and the amber liquid. He downed the whiskey, grimacing as he set the glass back down on the table.

"Got a few errands to run."

Buck followed Vin moments later leaving Chris seated alone. He eyed the bottle and reached over, pushing the stopper back in. With reluctant steps he made his way over to the jail house to keep a watch over Morris. He had a feeling that this would be a long, long day and as much as he'd like to have sent this day into oblivion with that bottle of whiskey, he knew the trouble wasn't over yet.

****

Vin watched until he was certain no one was paying any mind to him and then he slipped inside the Clarion Office. Inside, Mary was too caught up in running the press to notice his arrival and he watched her for a moment in indecision before calling to her.

"Mary? This a bad time?"

She looked back at him, a little surprised to discover him in the newspaper office.

"No, not at all." And then a glint came into her. "You have something for me?"

"Well, like I told you, my handwriting's as ugly as a toad. So if you'll write it down, I'll just say it."

"All right." She smiled warmly. "Let me get a pencil."

"Mary?"

She turned and he pointed to his ear and then to her. Her momentary confusion cleared when she reached up and found the pencil tucked behind her ear. She grinned at him a little foolishly and picked up a sheet of paper.

"So... what's it called?"

"A Hero's Heart." He waited until she was ready and then recited the poem that had been revolving around his head since the day before yesterday.

"I stare across that solitary plain, each and every dawn. Always searching for a hero's heart. A stranger bleeds, his hope lays near death... Clutching a tangled wreath to crown a hero's heart."

Mary looked up from her paper, her eyes a little misty. "Vin, that's beautiful."

"Really... you like it?"

Until this moment he hadn't realized how tense he had felt about this poem but the look in her eye took away all shadow of doubt even without her verbal reassurance. She handed him the paper with its squiggly gray symbols all running into each other.

"Did I get everything?"

"Yeah. Sure looks nice," he responded with conviction even though he couldn't figure out where any of his words might be in the pencil-scribbled text. When he looked back up to hand the piece of paper back to her, Vin knew he'd made a mistake. The misty-eyed pleasure had turned to a concerned frown as she reached for the single sheet.

"You can't read, can you?"

Vin swallowed hard deciding to bluff his way out by intimidating her.

"Who says I can't read?"

But Mary had never been the type to be intimidated easily and she saw right through his bluff instantly.

"Vin, there's nothing to be shamed of. Lots of people don't know how to read or write."

But that was exactly how he felt: ashamed.

"I don't need a bunch of books to teach me about life."

He stalked off, body rigid as if he expected to be stabbed in the back by her pity or her ridicule as he left her, too embarrassed to recognize the compassionate tone of her voice as she called out to him. He stepped straight off the boardwalk and onto the main street, walking along as if he hadn't a care in the world while -- inside -- he was a jumble of emotions.

It didn't matter that lots of people couldn't read or write, and that lots of people, like him, had been denied basic schooling for one reason or another. What mattered was that he wanted to be like those who could read and write. He wanted to lose himself in the magical worlds created by others, like Chris with his tales of chivalry and JD with his dimestore novels. He wanted to read the words in Mary's newspaper rather than sit around listening in on other people's conversations and getting the news second hand from people like Ezra and Buck. He wanted to read great works and study the world around him through the ideas postulated by others just as Josiah and Nathan did with books on theology and those medical textbooks.

Everything he knew was contained within his own life experiences, or gleaned from overheard conversations. Being with Chris and listening to the segments of stories that he might read aloud once in a while had shown him how much more there was to life than what he could see, hear and touch. And now that he knew of that world, he hated that he wasn't a part of it.

Vin screwed his eyes tight, then narrowed them in confusion as the sight ahead stole away his silent fury with himself.

"That Ezra?" he mumbled softly, then more loudly. "Lose your shirt, Ezra?"

"He cheated. He cheated! I know he cheated!"

Vin grinned at the sight of Ezra Standish who was barely clad in hat, boots and what had to be a tablecloth wrapped around to preserve what little remained of his dignity. Three of the town's womenfolk looked alternately shocked and delighted by the amount of bare flesh on display. Vin had to admit that he hadn't expected to see such a good body beneath all those fancy clothes. He'd always assumed Ezra would be lily-white and a little soft from his sedentary occupation but Ezra had smooth skin sliding over well-defined muscles.

"What are you looking at?" Vin felt a bubble of laughter creep upwards as Ezra walked up to the ladies, "Boo!" sending them into fits of giggles before he stalked away towards the saloon where he boarded.

Vin stood and watched him go, shaking his head in amusement. He'd heard all about Ezra's run-in with another gambler who'd arrived on the last stage, and how the man kept besting Ezra. And yet Ezra still went back for more.

"Man's got no pride. When's he ever gonna learn."

The smile faded as his throwaway words, mumbled more to himself, took on a whole new meaning. He realized that, quite in opposite to his thoughts of Ezra, it was his own foolish pride that had been stopping him from learning to read and write. He chewed thoughtfully on his lower lip as Ezra disappeared inside the saloon, casting aside that pride for a moment and letting the compassion in Mary's parting words reach him.

Slowly, he moved to the boardwalk, taking a seat in the shade and let some new poetry fill his head. Once he felt he had found those words, he walked back to Mary's office and stepped inside.

"Mary? I, uh... I come to apologize for... storming off like I did."

"No, Vin, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to embarrass you. That was a fine poem you wrote. You should feel proud."

"You know, with all that's been going on, it made me think of a new poem, just for you. Like to hear it?"

"Please."

She sat down on one side of her counter while Vin took a seat on the other. He reached out and moved aside a few of the large tomes that lay between them. Vin cleared his throat, gathering all of his pride around him, and then letting it fall away leaving only his dignity to cover him.

"I'm not the way they see me, not who they think I am... I'm just a man. And I have need of you... sweet woman. Not for the velvet of your touch, but for the weaponry of your mind."

He looked at her closely, trying to measure the impact of his words.

"There's a hole that needs mending, my own Achilles heel. So I offer up my need. Teach me, noble lady. Teach me to write... and to read."

He saw the answer in her eyes, saw the pleasure and pride as she was touched by his eloquent request.

"I'd be happy to."

As he walked from the Clarion office, a date already set for his first lesson, Vin felt as giddy as a child filled with happiness. He knew it would take a long time before he could read and write with the same skill as the others, if ever. However, for the first time since becoming part of the Seven and realizing what he had been missing, those strange and magical worlds -- lived through books and newspapers -- no longer seemed out of his reach.

His pleasure was short-lived as he came upon Buck and learned that JD had decided to go back East. Half an hour later, with a heavy heart, he leaned up against one of the uprights, staring at the kid who had been as much a part of the Seven as any of them. Buck stood on the other side of the post and Vin glanced back to find Ezra standing a little way behind them on the boardwalk. Nathan stepped out on the street, his face crumpled in the pain of another loss though this time not to death. Josiah had already said his 'goodbye'.

"Sandwiches for the trip."

Mary handed a small package over, accepting JD's thank you with a solemn nod of her head. It was only then that Vin realized Chris had joined them.

"JD? Change your mind, if you want to."

A moment's indecision flashed across JD's face at Chris simple and sincere words that told him no one would think any the worse of him should he reconsider his decision to leave. However, the yell of the driver broke through requiring an immediate response from JD.

"I think it's for the best."

He turned away, clambering onto the stage as it started to pull away, and was soon lost to them as the stage raced away from the town. As they watched the dust settle, a boy came running up with a telegraph message that he handed to Chris, and Vin watched his expression as he read the few lines. Chris looked up.

"Wired the Judge. He wants us to take Morris to Ridge City for trial."

"And Hector Thompson?" asked Vin, not liking the idea of keeping the body hanging around above ground for too many more days in this heat.

"Sheriff in Julestown don't need to see the body. Judge trusts us, and the Sheriff trusts the Judge. Looks like we can bury him."

Josiah sighed heavily, partly in relief at being able to lay Hector Thompson to rest and partly in sadness at having a third funeral service to perform in as many days.

"I'll take of the arrangements for Thompson."

Chris nodded gratefully and, with a flicker of his eyes, he beckoned Vin to follow him to the jail. Vin entered first, moving straight over to take the cell key from the hook. He jingled the key on its steel loop before placing it in the door and unlocking the cell.

"Time to go."

"Why? I was just getting to like it here."

"We need the quiet."

Chris replied disdainfully though both he and Vin knew that things were going to be all too quiet around the jail house now that JD had gone. The kid had always managed to liven up the place with his chatter, and Vin was already missing the friendly banter that took place between JD and Buck.

"Oh, boy, I can't sit, but I can stand." Vin snorted, understanding the man's reluctance to get moving as it would mean a day in the saddle to get to Ridge City. "Listen. You fellas interested in making a little deal?"

"No deals," Vin replied quickly, perversely pleased with the idea of seeing Morris suffer though he had no intention of staying around to watch the man swing from the gallows.

"It concerns your friend on the stagecoach," wheedled Morris.

Chris moved so fast it took Vin's breath away but, suddenly, he had Morris with his back against the cell bars with his hands gripping the collar of the man's jacket. Green eyes sparked with fury and he pressed harder on the man.

"I'm gonna count to three. One... Two..."

"All right, all right! But I'll get a little consideration, won't I?"

"Three." Chris issued that final count in a low and menacing tone, the fire in his eyes freezing into ice.

"Okay. That stage is carrying gold from California to the mint in Denver."

"Stage like that would have the cavalry riding with it." Vin stepped closer, his own anger riding high at the thought of this weasel twisting JD into his jail house lies just to save his miserable skin.

"They thought they could do it real sneaky. No extra guards. Nothing that would attract attention."

Chris shook him hard. "How do you know this?"

"Achilles got an old friend working for the Stage Company."

"They fixing on robbing the stage?" Vin knew it was a stupid question the moment it left his mouth but part of him hoped it was all jail house lies. If it were true then JD was in trouble. Achilles had no reverence for life and would kill everyone on board that stagecoach -- including JD.

"Yeah. So was I till this guy put a bullet in my rump--" Chris wasted no more time. He threw Morris back onto the bed and walked out of the cell, slamming the door shut behind him. "I-- I-- I, uh... what about our deal?"

Vin ran out after Chris, racing off to fetch the others just as he had earlier that day. They rode out of town swiftly, cutting across the hills in the hope of catching up with the stage before it was too late.

As they crested another hill, Vin could see the driverless stagecoach racing through the wide valley below with at least a dozen riders at its wheels. His sharp eyes made out the figure of a man clambering through the side window and onto the top. The figure reached the driver's seat and began to turn the team of horses in a wide circle without losing any of the speed they had gathered.

It had to be JD.

Vin and the others thundered down the side of the hill and then raced along the track, rounding a bend to find the stagecoach bearing down upon them with JD in the driver's seat just as Vin had surmised.

With guns drawn and firing, the six split around the stagecoach, taking many of Achilles' men by surprise but Achilles was nowhere to be seen. As the last of the robbers fell beneath the bullets of the Six protectors, they turned and rode back after the stagecoach.

Vin winced as someone fell from the stage, falling under the wheels of the heavy coach and for one terrible moment he thought it was JD. He looked across at the man riding hard by his side, taking silent comfort in the knowledge that he still had the man he loved most in this world even as he started to grieve for JD. As they came closer, Vin saw the dark skin of the fallen man and he breathed a ragged sigh of relief.

It wasn't JD.

In the meantime, JD pulled hard on the reins, drawing the stage to a halt and Vin grinned at the excitement lighting up JD's face, knowing his own was filled with a mixture of pleasure and relief.

"I'd say that was darn heroic, Son."

"I'd say that was darn lucky, Preacher," came JD's happy response.

"That turn was perfect."

Vin nodded hard. He had to agree with Buck there. He'd never seen anyone handle a four-horse team with such skill. He knew from experience how difficult a team were to handle once they were running flat out, recalling the time when they tried to fool Wicks into believing his working girls had gone over the edge of the mesa in their wagon. Releasing the horses and then turning them from the edge before they all went hurtling over had been a heart-stopping moment, but an exhilarating one nonetheless.

"Ah, Buck, come on. You know nothing I do is perfect."

"If he was perfect, he wouldn't be one of us," Chris crowed happily, green eyes alight with pleasure.

"But you are one of us." Buck stepped up to JD and offered him the gun belt with twin colts that Josiah had found hanging around Annie's grave marker. "You shouldn't leave your guns out in the rain." He grinned broadly when JD shook hands and accepted the guns back. "All right."

Vin slapped his thigh, too choked with pleasure to verbalize how he felt at seeing the Seven together once more. These men were the closest he'd come to having a family since the day his grandma died, and the thought of losing any one of them had cut deep into his heart.

With night fast approaching, Ezra surprised them by offering to drive the stage back to town -- until he asked Lester, the one-legged gambler who had caused him so much frustration, to join him. JD was only too happy to ride Ezra's horse to town, flanked by his friends though, after a time, Vin pulled back slightly, drawing Chris with him.

"You okay, Cowboy?"

"Never better."

"Figure that weasel deserves a steak dinner tonight."

"To hell with Morris. Reckon *we* deserve the steak dinner tonight."

"And pudding?"

"Smelled apple pie coming from Mrs. Jenkin's kitchen. Maybe we should rescue a slice or two..."

Chris raised his sandy eyebrows suggestively as he trailed off, and Vin chuckled softly as he remembered the last time they'd eaten Mrs. Jenkins' apple pie alone together. Chris had used him as the plate.

Vin squirmed in his saddle at the familiar tightening in his groin as he recalled the way Chris had smothered his chest and slowly engorging shaft with the cooked apple and pie crust, sucking and licking at his heated flesh, and greedily licking off every morsel. The delights of that wicked mouth and tongue had brought him such pleasure, and then Chris had swallowed every last drop of his come, smacking his lips in appreciation.

"You're a damn tease, Larabee."

Chris laughed softly, digging in his heels to spur his horse onwards to catch up with the others, leaving Vin riding alone. Vin shook his head, wondering how he was going to survive an evening in company when all he wanted to do was throw Chris to the ground and give him some pleasurable payback for his silent teasing.

"Damn tease," he repeated quietly to himself, and then he spurred his horse onwards, eager to catch up with the people he cared about -- and especially his beautiful, teasing lover.

THE END


End file.
